Double Take
by Alkalphiel
Summary: *Updated* Chapter 7:Shooting Blind. Waiting is hard. Running fast enough to get back is harder. Legolas' side of First Sight. Legolas/OC romance. Rated for angst.
1. Legolas Exposits

Title: Double Take  
  
Chapter: 1: Legolas Exposits  
  
Author: Alkalphiel and The Scribe  
  
Summary: Legolas' version of "First Sight"  
  
Feedback: Yes, please! Post reviews or email alkalphiel@yahoo.com  
  
A/N: The Scribe: The Lord of the Rings and all its accompanying parts, characters and mythologies are not mine. This fanfiction is intended as a work of respect for and tribute to J. R. R. Tolkien's creations.  
  
Alkalphiel: Well, Legolas wanted to tell his end of how we met. Here it is!  
  
~*~  
  
A prince has many responsibilities.  
  
Or so my father tells me at every occasion. "Legolas," he says, "you must make a greater effort to find your soul mate. I have no desire to rule Mirkwood forever, but I cannot in good conscience sail for the Grey Havens until you have your queen beside you."  
  
"I will find her when I find her, father. You know these things cannot be rushed, so why do you push me?"  
  
King Thranduil sighed. "I don't want you to be alone. Your mother and I were very happy, and even if the Sea did not call me to sail, the promise of reunion with her would. I wish that happiness for you, my son. How does this strike you? I would like to give a festival in honor of your return from the War of the Ring. I'm certain that a great many Elves will attend, thus presenting you with many possible matches. If your life mate should happen to attend the festival and you find her there, both our hearts will be glad of it. If not, I promise to hold my peace about this matter - for a time, at least."  
  
I was impressed. "Atar, I think a festival is a grand idea. I will attend and gladly. With any luck, my other half will be there of her own accord."  
  
"Excellent. We will begin preparations immediately."  
  
My father strode out of the room. Although he has reached an age considered venerable even by Elves, his presence is still powerful. I felt significant energy drain from the chamber. I myself crossed to the window to ponder what I had just agreed to.  
  
Any such gathering would be filled with single Elves, hoping to connect with their matches. And out of any group of single Elves, a large part of the females would take an active role in the seeking of their mates. A very active role. At least, where I was concerned. The evening, I now realized, would be a procession of women introducing themselves to me, hoping for a spark.  
  
It was true enough that meeting many new people increased the odds that one would be my life mate. It was also true that I, having been gone these years on my quest, had not met many Elven women recently. Logically, it stood to reason that this was the best course of action.  
  
My reservation was one that I did not feel compelled to share with my father, or any one for that matter. A touch of foresight ran in our family, not enough to reveal specific details but enough to give a general sense of direction. I had a very strong feeling that my life mate would not seek me out, but rather that I would find her. Indeed, something older than time whispered to me as I stood on that balcony, watching sunset tinge the horizon golden. ~She will not come willingly. You must win her over.~  
  
"Why? How?" I whispered back. ~The wound that does not kill may still scar. It is enough. You will overcome.~ The voice would say no more than that; I was left with the distinct impression that I'd already been told too much. "I will win her over," I promised the wind. 


	2. Making an Entrance

Title: Double Take  
  
Chapter: 2: Making an Entrance  
  
Author: Alkalphiel and The Scribe  
  
Summary: Legolas' version of "First Sight"  
  
Feedback: Yes, please! Post reviews or email alkalphiel@yahoo.com  
  
A/N: The Scribe: The Lord of the Rings and all its accompanying parts, characters and mythologies are not mine. This fanfiction is intended as a work of respect for and tribute to J. R. R. Tolkien's creations.  
  
Alkalphiel: Many thanks to all my reviewers. You are the reason these stories exist!  
  
~*~  
  
The festival was glorious, as my father wished it to be. I'm certain that most of Mirkwood was in attendance, especially quite a few lovely ladies who took it upon themselves to gift me with their presences. I myself, anticipating this response, decided to enjoy it as best as I could.  
  
I entered the ballroom dramatically, pausing on the balcony before making my way down the spiral staircase. The royal tailors of Mirkwood are skilled beyond words, so my clothing immediately caught the eyes of the crowd. For the occasion I wore the forest green I loved so much with gold ornamentation. The stitching on the cuffs of my sleeves and the bottom of my billowing cloak was done in a pale gold thread that nearly matched my hair. As I'd been repeatedly informed, the entire ensemble was exquisite. The small corner of vanity inside me was insufferable - there was nothing he liked more than to be the center of attention. While I've always felt that humility should play a prominent part in a prince's life, I do concede that a dose of vanity is necessary. Some part of oneself must enjoy being gazed upon, or one will feel stifled.  
  
In this case, I found myself a little uncomfortable with all the eyes on me; recent battle experience dictated that being the object of intense scrutiny was not good. Fortunately, royal training rose to the forefront and I smiled and inclined my head regally. The Elves nearest the staircase bowed to me. I gestured to them, granting my permission to rise, and set out into the crowd.  
  
~*~  
  
"Prince Legolas?"  
  
I turned to face yet another Elf maiden. My face felt a little stiff as I smiled to her.  
  
"Your Highness, my name is Fëanora. I must say, it's an honor to meet you."  
  
"The pleasure is mine, Lady Fëanora." I bowed cordially. No spark. Not the one. Her face fell slightly as she realized that we were not a match, but to her credit she covered it well. Much better than some I'd seen.  
  
Someone tapped my shoulder. Couldn't be one of the hopeful maidens, then - they were always too intimidated to do that. I pivoted neatly. "Mellaithwen!" She was, hands down, one of my favorite courtiers. One who refused to play the silly games so common to the court, who still managed not to offend anyone with her bluntness. Mell's good nature shone through everything she did, no matter how misguided it might be. And from the looks of the Elf maiden I could see over her shoulder, this was misguided too.  
  
"Legolas, I have someone I'd like you to meet. Over there is a very dear friend of mine, a woman named Alkalphiel." She turned and pointed to an Elf wearing an indigo dress. It sparkled somehow, possibly because of the fine metallic embroidery that often accented dresses for occasions like this festival. I'd seen maybe a hundred gowns like that over the course of the evening. Still, something indefinable struck me as special about this gown - or possibly this woman. I was intrigued.  
  
I saw the Lady Alkalphiel look up at me. The expression on her face reminded me of a deer I'd once surprised. I'd been traveling through the tree branches, dropped into a glade, and startled a doe. Apparently Mellaithwen and her ideas were having the same effect on Alkalphiel. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring half-smile, but she still appeared alarmed.  
  
My course was set. I nodded my thanks to Mellaithwen and began crossing the distance between Alkalphiel and myself. She'd turned away and was moving rapidly toward the table with the punch bowl. From what I could tell, she was moving too quickly to arrive safely. More than likely she'd collide with the table. That couldn't be right. Elves, especially Elf maidens, didn't collide with things.  
  
I'd underestimated my effect on Alkalphiel. She'd launched herself in a true state of panic, for reasons unknown to me. At the very least, I felt that I owed her an apology for causing her such alarm.  
  
Well, now I felt that I owed her more than that. She'd just maneuvered herself directly into the table, striking it just so that it collapsed backwards toward her. It would have taken concentration and precision for me to achieve that effect. Alkalphiel, through what appeared to be sheer chance, had started a cascade of punch that washed over her, plastering her light brown hair to her face and soaking her dress.  
  
She could see just enough between that hair to see that, as soon as I was within reach, I'd extended a hand to her. Alkalphiel took it and I helped her to rise. She raised her other hand and lifted her hair off her face.  
  
It was readily apparent that she was not pleased to find me on the other end of that arm. I, however, was very pleased. Her hand fit neatly in mine. Even sticky and soaking, she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen.  
  
I smiled reassuringly and watched as the woman who would be the love of my life cringed. At least we both clearly knew how to make an entrance. 


	3. Drowning in You

Title: Double Take  
  
Chapter: 3: Drowning in You  
  
Author: Alkalphiel and The Scribe  
  
Summary: Legolas' version of "First Sight"  
  
Feedback: Yes, please! Post reviews or email alkalphiel@yahoo.com  
  
A/N: The Scribe: The Lord of the Rings and all its accompanying parts, characters and mythologies are not mine. This fanfiction is intended as a work of respect for and tribute to J. R. R. Tolkien's creations.  
  
Alkalphiel: Many thanks to all my reviewers. You are the reason these stories exist!  
  
~*~  
  
Once, when I was very young, I'd gone swimming in a great pool at the base of a waterfall. As the young are wont to do, I'd horrified my guardian by getting it into my head that I would explore the waterfall itself. I swam determinedly towards it, eventually clambering up the small ledge to the side of the pounding water. The guardsman assigned to watch me was convinced that I'd been sucked under and was in the process of drowning before his very eyes. I, meanwhile, edged my way behind the waterfall and into the shallow cave.  
  
It was overwhelming. Everything within my field of vision was falling water; everything I could hear was the crashing of the water around me. I'd never encountered anything that so completely blocked out the rest of the world. I'd never before been so mesmerized.  
  
To say that the waterfall experience described what Alkalphiel's presence did to me would be an understatement. The waterfall had encased me in wonder, awe, and a delicious thrill of fear. Alkalphiel, on the other hand, seemed to be the embodiment of security and warmth. Gazing at her evoked in me the same feeling as cresting the hill overlooking Mirkwood, returning from any of my many adventures abroad. The world holds many wonders, but only one place is home.  
  
Alkalphiel's eyes widened as she looked at me. I was sure she felt as I did and equally sure that she lacked the education I'd received. Royalty must be fully schooled in the life bond; others may discover it as they go. The only thing for it, then, was to try and set her at ease until I could explain what was happening.  
  
"Are you all right, fair maiden? Pardon me, for I did not catch your name." Perhaps courtliness would be less intimidating.  
  
"My name is Alkalphiel, your Highness. I am the daughter of Himquárëion. And I am well, thank you."  
  
"I am glad to hear that you are well, Alkalphiel. I am Legolas, son of Thranduil. Come, let us get you a clean gown." I smiled at her and was rewarded with a smile of her own. She was exquisite indeed, a jewel among Elves.  
  
A reluctant jewel. To my surprise, she began attempting to leave. "Thank you, my lord. But that is not necessary. I was just leaving . . . ."  
  
"Nonsense. I insist." This couldn't be right. Life bonds didn't run away from each other. I grasped her firmly by the arm and set off down a side hall, pausing to ask a passing servant to locate a clean gown for the lady. I requested that her replacement be of the same forest green cloth that I wore. Really, few things are as striking as well-matched Elves.  
  
Finally, I led Alkalphiel off into a guest room. Relieved to be alone with her at last, I waited for the recognition of our bond. After all, it was quite easy to believe that she'd exercised restraint in public. Surely now, with only the two of us, her joy would rise to the fore.  
  
Imagine my surprise when her face reflected only gratitude and dismissal. "Thank you again, Prince Legolas, for all -"  
  
I held up a hand. "Please. Just Legolas." Worried that she was still intimidated by my rank, I gave her the half-smile that was usually so charming.  
  
"Legolas then. Thank you for your aid. I'm sure you must be returning to the celebrations -"  
  
Perplexed, I raised my hand to stop her again. "Lady Alkalphiel, I -"  
  
She grinned broadly at me. I didn't get the joke until she raised her hand and, when I paused, said, "Please. Just Alkalphiel."  
  
Here was the sparkle I'd hoped for. I grinned back at her. "Alkalphiel. It would be my pleasure to wait with you until the servant arrives with a new gown for you. I will, of course, have this one cleaned and delivered to your home. For now, I would see you dressed finely as a elf maiden deserves. And then, I believe I owe you a dance." Through our nebulous new life bond, I felt a small wave of affection. This woman was clearly untrained, a fact that I appreciated as it would allow me to eavesdrop on her reactions to me. As quickly as it had come, the affection stopped. The emotion stopped flowing so quickly that I wondered: perhaps she was not so untrained?  
  
"Legolas, no. There is no need. You have already treated me far better than I deserve."  
  
"Alkalphiel, yes, I do owe you a dance. Also, I must speak to you about an urgent matter, and since you seem so eager to be rid of me we must speak now." Clearly she didn't understand what was happening between us.  
  
Alkalphiel turned away from me. I heard her gentle sigh. Hoping to clear up the situation as quickly as possible, I started right in. "I am puzzled, I must admit. How is it that you do not feel this as well? Alkalphiel, I believe you are my soul mate and my heart sings to have found you. Alkalphiel?"  
  
I was feeling the strangest twitchings through the fledgling bond. Her reactions to me, feelings of strong infatuation and affection, were just as they should be - yet she was squashing them. I could not for the life of me understand why . . . until she spoke.  
  
"My lord, you have been deceived. Not willingly, true, but deceived nevertheless. There is something . . . wrong about me. Something that tricks others - aye, and myself - into believing that the life bond has at last been forged and found. But it is wrong. Your Highness, this has happened before and although I would not relive it, I shall if that is what is necessary. You must believe me when I tell you that my heart lies to yours. These feelings will pass, and the sooner you leave me, the sooner it will be over."  
  
I looked at her in horror. "How is this possible? A false version of our most sacred bond? Is this something that you will?" The possibilities for mayhem and destruction were nearly endless.  
  
"No, my lord." Alkalphiel would not meet my eyes. "I do not will it. This has brought me nothing but pain and grief. I am capable of being truly happy on my own, and I believe that is my fate. I think I have no soul mate. Please, your Highness, it was never my wish to do this to you. Forgive me." I thought I saw a single tear run down her cheek, although I might have been mistaken.  
  
"I am sorry, my lady, but I must know of this. Please, will you tell me of your past experiences?"  
  
Alkalphiel visibly steeled herself. She told me that she'd met a guardsman by the name of Quellepaural and believed herself to be life bonded to him. They'd spent a day together and then - nothing. A sudden end, for which she'd evidently blamed herself. Alkalphiel did her best to present her tale as an old pain of long ago, but the pangs reverberating down the partial bond gave her away.  
  
I prepared myself to hurt her if I must. "This was recent?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Quellepaural. He is one of the guardsman, is he not?"  
  
Again, she nodded.  
  
"Hmm. . . . I must leave you now. You will be seen to, and we will speak before this night is out." It pained me to leave her so abruptly and obviously hurting, but I felt the need to bring this to a quick end. I had my own conclusions to draw. Alkalphiel's story sounded suspiciously like several others I had been entrusted with.  
  
Turning to leave, I moved swiftly for the door. Through the bond came one final cry, Alkalphiel's heart reaching out for my own. She silenced it again, so viciously that I wanted to wince. Instead, I paused in the door and turned back and to look at Alkalphiel one last time. 


	4. Free Flight

Title: Double Take  
  
Chapter: 4: Free Flight  
  
Author: Alkalphiel and The Scribe  
  
Summary: Legolas' version of "First Sight"  
  
Feedback: Yes, please! Post reviews or email alkalphiel@yahoo.com  
  
A/N: The Scribe: The Lord of the Rings and all its accompanying parts, characters and mythologies are not mine. This fanfiction is intended as a work of respect for and tribute to J. R. R. Tolkien's creations.  
  
Alkalphiel: Many thanks to all my reviewers. You are the reason these stories exist!  
  
~*~  
  
I stepped out of Alkalphiel's chamber and was pleased to see a servant passing me with the requested dark green gown in his arms. Reaching out a hand, I stopped him for a moment. "Thank you, Finrod. Your prompt service is, as always, appreciated."  
  
"It is a pleasure, my lord. A question, if I may?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
"The lady . . . might she be the one?"  
  
"I don't know yet," I was forced to answer. "But I would ask a favor of you. Do not leave her unwatched. I fear for her safety."  
  
Finrod nodded. "Aye, my lord. I'll pass the word." With that, he was gone.  
  
Part of me, probably the vain part, was still preoccupied with the forest green gown. "Well, it's true that few things are as striking as well- matched Elves," I muttered to myself. Shaking my head at myself, I set off to find my father.  
  
~*~  
  
He was in a small reception room to the side of the ballroom. My face must have told him that I was not fit to be courtly, for he gestured and cleared the room. For all that his urging that I find my mate and all his hints that I assume the throne, King Thranduil is also a deeply compassionate father. He simply sat down and patted the bench beside him.  
  
"Ada, I cannot be still!"  
  
My father's face reflected his surprise at my use of the childish address - I had not called him "Daddy" for many years - but his voice held none of it. "By all means, Legolas, tell me what has you in such a state."  
  
I was bewildered and finally able to show it. "I've found her, my soul mate . . . or, at least, I think I've found her. Just when I'm beginning to feel certain, she cuts off the bond, or tries to get away from me. I was expecting reluctance, not the fight I'm getting!  
  
"The day we talked about having this ball, I had a - premonition is not right, but something of that nature. Something spoke to me as I watched the sun set. It told me, '~She will not come willingly. You must win her over.~' " My voice faded to a whisper. "I asked it how? Why? And what I got back was '~The wound that does not kill may still scar. It is enough. You will overcome.~' But what if I can't? What if I'm not strong enough? And what if I simply don't know how?"  
  
Atar smiled at me. "I know you do not feel this now, Legolas, but I assure you that all will be well. When the time comes, you will know. This is a truly unsatisfying answer, but it is what I have to give you. Or perhaps . . ." Thranduil trailed off. Apparently changing subjects, he began, "Do you remember that hawk we found, when you were small?"  
  
"The injured one? Yes." Unsure where this was leading, I counseled myself to trust my father.  
  
"Do you remember the hawk's fear of you? How you eventually won it over, just as it was healed? Do you remember setting it free?"  
  
I nodded to every question.  
  
"And what happened then, Legolas? What happened when you let the wild thing make its own choices?"  
  
"It flew so high that I feared it would never come down. And then it circled back, and landed on my outstretched arm." Comprehension dawned in my eyes. "Thank you, Ada. There is one thing more - she also bears the mark of Quellepaural. Do you think that this time, perhaps, we may finally catch him and act?"  
  
The King of Mirkwood inclined his head regally. Whenever he did that, I had the urge to bow to him. "As I have advised you repeatedly, my son, when the time for action comes, one simply knows. And I know, that now is the time to move."  
  
I smiled to him. "Then let us move. I shall have Alkalphiel and Quellepaural brought to us, and we shall finish this at last." 


	5. Justice at Last

Title: Double Take  
  
Chapter: 5: Justice at Last  
  
Author: Alkalphiel and The Scribe  
  
Summary: Legolas' version of "First Sight"  
  
Feedback: Yes, please! Post reviews or email alkalphiel@yahoo.com  
  
A/N: The Scribe: The Lord of the Rings and all its accompanying parts, characters and mythologies are not mine. This fanfiction is intended as a work of respect for and tribute to J. R. R. Tolkien's creations. To anyone who's still reading: THANK YOU! To LadyTremere: Real Life has been getting majorly in the way for the past month or so and I simply haven't had the energy to post things. Now that it's Spring Break, some much-needed recharging has also brought the muse back. Er, or placed me in touch with Alkalphiel and Legolas . . . or whatever. At any rate, everything is still ok - it's just been exhausting!  
  
Alkalphiel: Thank you for sticking with this. Legolas truly wants to share his side of things!  
  
~*~  
  
Father and I made our way to the guest quarters to which I had first taken Alkalphiel. I had some vague notion that she would be a little more at ease in the familiar room. We paused in the doorway, and it was well that we did for Finrod rushed up to me.  
  
"My lord, I must speak with you!"  
  
I nodded. "Go ahead, Finrod."  
  
With an uneasy glance and hasty bow to the king, Finrod outlined Quellepaural's most recent actions to me. "That guardsman, Quellepaural - the slimy one - he approached the Lady Alkalphiel. Threatened her, like. Told her never again to speak of what had passed between them. Blamed her for something. I'm not sure what he meant, but his tone had my hands itching to pull him away from her." Finrod looked up and saw Quellepaural approaching, escorted by another servant. "With your leave, my lord, I would be on my way."  
  
"Certainly. Thank you, Finrod. I owe you much for this."  
  
"T'is nothing, my lord. Just . . . don't let him near her."  
  
I couldn't help but smile. Alkalphiel had been in the palace of Mirkwood for scarcely two hours and she'd already stirred the protective instincts of Finrod in addition to myself. Of course, I knew what drew Finrod to her - it was that lack of assumption with which she carried herself. She wasn't royalty and wasn't accustomed to servants, and there was nothing Finrod liked more than someone who didn't want to be waited on. "I give you my word, Finrod. I will protect her."  
  
Satisfied, Finrod took off down the hall.  
  
Quellepaural was, without doubt, the most thoroughly unpleasant Elf I've ever known. As he approached us, his expression managed to contain both distaste and condescension, neither one of which was often leveled at the royal family. I made a mental note to ask my father how this particular Elf had come to be part of the guard.  
  
"My lords." Quellepaural sketched a bow and twisted the traditional address into something of an insult.  
  
I shared a glance with Atar. One would think that an Elf in such a precarious position would conceal his insolence a little better. Apparently this was not so.  
  
"Let us proceed," I announced, and opened the doors to the guest chamber.  
  
There, directly inside, was Alkalphiel. As I had predicted, she looked exquisite in the forest green gown. She also looked distinctly nauseous. I nodded to her. "Lady Alkalphiel."  
  
She stood and bowed to me, then turned to my father and bowed again, deeper and more formally than before. "My lords."  
  
Quellepaural stepped forward with a sneer and spat at her. "Do not call her a lady, my prince. This one is not what she seems, but rather a treacherous snake in the heart of Mirkwood."  
  
I clenched my hands into fists. Alkalphiel's eyes had widened slightly, and her control over the life bond had slipped just enough to let her fear trickle through. I'm normally a very calm Elf, but this was a direct insult and implied threat to the woman I believed to be my soul mate. Restraining myself, I settled for stopping Quellepaural before he could begin. "Yes, guardsman, we have heard your thoughts on this matter. However, I have also heard Alkalphiel's impressions of the same occurrences and between your two testimonies, I have created a picture different from what either of you presented."  
  
The look on Quellepaural's face was pure shock. I was pleased to have caught him off guard. So pleased, in fact, that I actually smiled at his expression.  
  
"King Thranduil," I began, bowing to my father, "I have told you the stories recounted to me by these two elves. Both report that they felt a false form of the life bond that joins Elven soul mates. Both agree that the source of this false bond is the lady Alkalphiel. Alkalphiel claims that it is unintentional, the result of a defect over which she is powerless. Quellepaural insists that Alkalphiel intentionally manipulated him, maliciously using some secret power to pervert this special bond. You have heard my recountings of both these testimonies, have you not?"  
  
"I have, my son," King Thranduil replied.  
  
"Would either of you like to speak with King Thranduil present before we continue with this?"  
  
Alkalphiel shook her head wanly.  
  
Quellepaural shook his as well, grinning at his anticipated victory.  
  
Atar looked at Quellepaural and then turned to Alkalphiel. "These are serious charges, Alkalphiel. Using only the evidence given, I would be forced to conclude that you were an elf of unusual power and malice and thus to banish you from all Elven lands."  
  
She lowered her head, shaking it slightly. Her deep despair resonated down our weak bond until there was nothing that could hold me back. Nodding to my father, I stepped forward until I reached Alkalphiel. I lifted her chin with my finger, bringing her gaze up to mine, and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Courage, Alkalphiel."  
  
Her attention returned to my father and she saw him waiting patiently, as I knew he would be.  
  
Continuing, King Thranduil spoke again. "As I was about to say, if this were the only evidence things would look bleak indeed for you, Lady Alkalphiel. However, my son is rather industrious and considered quite charming by the ladies. He has discovered five other elves with stories amazingly similar to yours, right down to the detail of their false soul mate's name: Quellepaural."  
  
Alkalphiel's head whipped toward Quellepaural, and my father and I followed her lead. As for Quellepaural, his mouth dropped open at this announcement.  
  
King Thranduil chuckled. "You, Quellepaural, have been an unknown bur on my household for too long. You will be held here until we have determined precisely what is occurring and why. Then we shall decide your fate. Guards!"  
  
The doors of the room swung open and two guardsmen stepped in. They'd never been asked to arrest one of their own before, and they seemed a little uncertain of themselves. Quellepaural seized on their hesitation and bolted out the door.  
  
"Find him!" King Thranduil ordered, and the guards were off. Atar nodded to Alkalphiel, nodded to me, and strode regally from the room.  
  
I moved close to Alkalphiel, relieved to be alone with her at last. Surely, now that everything had been brought to light, she would embrace me with joy.  
  
"How did you do it? How did you find five other elves in the same position, and so quickly?"  
  
"I did not do it quickly, my lady. The women of my father's court have been coming to me in secret for some time now, confessing situations of false love and blaming themselves, much as you did. I am astonished by the sweep and audacity of whatever Quellepaural has been up to. Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this. Now, while I have you alone, there is something further of which I would speak to you." I would win her over. 


	6. Tacking into the Wind

Title: Double Take  
  
Chapter: 6: Tacking into the Wind  
  
Author: Alkalphiel and The Scribe  
  
Summary: Legolas' version of "First Sight"  
  
Feedback: Yes, please! Post reviews or email alkalphiel@yahoo.com  
  
A/N: The Scribe: The Lord of the Rings and all its accompanying parts, characters and mythologies are not mine. This fanfiction is intended as a work of respect for and tribute to J. R. R. Tolkien's creations.  
  
For those not familiar with the term, "tacking into the wind" is a nautical term. If anyone out there is an expert in nautical terminology or actually sails, or whatever, please correct me! My impression is that the definition goes something like this: one cannot sail directly into the wind and must therefore turn one's boat, through the wind, and sail at an angle to it. This gives the appearance of turning around and going the wrong way, but actually leads to progress.  
  
To ola: I remind you of Mercedes Lackey? Thank you. I read most of her books in my earlier years, and I greatly admire her light sense of humor and love for her characters.  
  
Alkalphiel: I've never sailed. Legolas knows his way around a canoe . . .  
  
~*~  
  
Alkalphiel jumped right into evading me. She began, "My lord, I'm sure that you wish to speak to me about the life bond that you believe we share. I must assure you, it is still just as false as it was when this ordeal began. Now please, with your leave I will be on my way . . ." I could almost see her edging toward the door.  
  
I blocked her verbally. If she would not listen to her own heart or even to mine, perhaps she would listen to pragmatism. "No, you do not have my leave and you will not be on your way. Lady Alkalphiel, we do not know where Quellepaural is and for that simple reason alone - your protection - I must insist that you remain here. However, you must also stay here to give testimony as our investigation requires it."  
  
I took a deep breath. I had to say what must be said, and Alkalphiel had to listen to it. Reaching inside myself for the truth, hoping against hope that she would finally and truly listen, I spoke. "And there is the matter of the bond between us. Lady Alkalphiel, I do not know much about you. We have exchanged our names and the names of our fathers, and little else. Never the less, I trust what my heart tells me. Now I will tell you what it sings, and if you can still turn and walk away forever when I have finished, then so be it. I hope with all my being that you choose to remain, to learn me as I learn you, and eventually to stand by my side." I did not tell her that my heart would surely break in two if she left, part of it lingering with her for eternity.  
  
"What I do know of you: you possess a strong inclination toward the protection and aid of others. I do not think I am mistaken when I surmise that you never thought to blame Quellepaural for the false life bond. You also do not hold yourself in high regard, probably because you are not as fair as many of our race. There is also something about you - a feeling of restraint, perhaps. I did notice that you were not eager to meet me, and you may indeed have been the only elf in the room not to approach me. Many are eager that I should be their match and would hurry this along by chasing me down if necessary. I, on the other hand, have always felt that my soul mate would be one I found, one I had to pursue and court. You see I am well prepared for you, Lady Alkalphiel. As long as you doubt, I shall continue to believe.  
  
"I know what it is to be hounded. Rest assured that I shall not actually pursue you. Whatever your decision, I will respect and honor it. If your heart of hearts cannot rest easy and persuades you that we are not soul mates, I will accept this. Do you wish to hear what my heart of hearts tells me?" I wasn't sure where the strength to proclaim these things was coming from. The words of the wind echoed in me: ~The wound that does not kill may still scar. It is enough. You will overcome.~  
  
Alkalphiel stood frozen before me. She nodded slowly, eyes widened and soul open.  
  
"I look at you and know without any sure reason that you will stand by my side to the ends of time and beyond. I see our children and the future of Mirkwood in your eyes. I close my eyes and hear your heartbeat, soft and slow while you sleep or racing powerfully as you sprint with me down the forest trails of our realm." As I spoke the words, it was true. Her heartbeat began to sound in my ears, steady and loving and softer than a lullaby. "I feel the songs you have yet to sing, songs you have yet to know, but I know them and I feel your soul as well. I know your empathy and eagerness to aid others. And your fierce independence - Mellaithwen informs me that you live alone and seldom meet others or venture out, not because you dislike other elves but rather because you are sufficient for yourself." The vision I wove was entrancing me as well as her, and I found myself wondering how I could know these things. This was never mentioned in life bond training.  
  
"I know the ugly parts of you, too. The way you look down tells me that you lack self-confidence, and as I said before I would attribute this to your appearance. I suspect that you are a bit too accommodating as a result, allowing yourself to be intimidated. And from the independence - the determined cast to your mouth as you withheld that Quellepaural had sought you out and threatened you - I can see that you are the kind to refuse to lean on another. Too proud? That I do not know, for as I have said before I do not yet know you, Lady Alkalphiel." My sudden font of knowledge was spent; her heartbeat was fading from my hearing, and in it's place came a nagging voice that asked me if I was sure that it was enough. I wondered, had I said enough? Had I spoken the right words to coax this hawk back down on to my arm?  
  
Alkalphiel looked surprised about something. I waited for the inevitable questions, the suspicions I was sure would come: How do you know these things? Have you been spying on me? What are you, a voyeur?  
  
She opened her lovely mouth to break my heart, shatter my soul with her distrust. Out came the words "How did you know about Quellepaural?"  
  
How did I know about Quellepaural? My lady was beyond belief. "This is my father's palace. Little takes place here that is not noted by someone, often a servant. Fortunately for you, many of my oldest friends work here. You are a pragmatic lady. Almost hopelessly so. Faced with a declaration of love, you fix on an irrelevant detail." I fixed a look of exasperation on my face and sighed. Rising bemusement forced me to turn away and gaze out the window instead. A inappropriate smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.  
  
"Is that what this is? A declaration of love?"  
  
I couldn't understand how this could surprise her so. Fears crept into my amusement - perhaps she was not the one, after all. Turning back to Alkalphiel, I steeled myself for what was to come. "It is. I have told you what I have seen, and what I know without seeing or hearing. I now await your response." I gazed into her eyes, looking for her reaction.  
  
"Your Highness, I cannot do this. Not yet, perhaps not ever. My heart speaks to me, I am certain, but I will not hear it. My faith in the age- old soul bond of our kind has been deeply shaken. Your words have moved me, do not doubt that, but I am not sure that it is enough. Possibly, with time . . . I don't know."  
  
She was not sure that it was enough. A tiny, high-pitched sound like a fine wine glass hitting the cold stone floor, somewhere within me. To be royal is to make many hard choices, and always to place others above yourself. To be true to myself, I must do nothing less. I felt my chest tighten. And yet, through it all, there was a thread of sorrow not for myself but for Alkalphiel. To be so wounded that one would reject the promise of eternal love and companionship . . . it was unfathomable.  
  
"Lady Alkalphiel, here is what I would say to you: When one wanders through the darkness, be it the depths of a cave or the plains on a moonless night, it is easy to believe the black to be endless. Do not doubt that I know this. However, more often than not it is the darkness that allows even the tiniest light to shine forth all the more brightly. My wish for you is that you allow someone, that you allow me, to light a candle.  
  
"I will depart now and allow you to retire. You shall remain a guest here until we are certain of your safety, and thereafter for as long as you desire. I urge you to think upon my words. Whatever your choice, I will stand by it and defend it to any who would question."  
  
She was puzzled by my words. "Why, my lord? You would defend my decision to have nothing further to do with you, if I so chose?"  
  
"I would defend that right against all comers, my lady. I have absolute faith that whatever you choose will be the right decision. Please know that whether or not I have a place in your life, I will always respect you. And love you." My heart ached for her, for the innocence and trust she had lost; my heart ached for me, for the light and laughter and love I feared I had just lost. I turned away from her, every inch a prince, and moved quickly to the door. Unable to stop myself, I paused near the door and looked over my shoulder for a last glimpse of her. She was silhouetted against the window, outlined by the flickering torchlight reaching in from the gardens below. I opened the door, stepped through, and pulled it closed behind me.  
  
Spent, I slid down the wall to the floor. I sat there, knees drawn up to my chest, heedless of the inquiring looks of passing servants. Unbidden, an image came to my mind: a great ship, unable to make headway through the wind, slowly turning. Although it appeared to be retreating in the face of the gusts, I knew that this was the wisest course and that the ship would eventually move forward all the more because it gave ground now. The words for this came to me then - "tacking into the wind." 


	7. Shooting Blind

Title: Double Take  
  
Chapter: 7: Shooting Blind  
  
Author: Alkalphiel and The Scribe  
  
Summary: Legolas' version of "First Sight"  
  
Feedback: Yes, please! Post reviews or email alkalphiel@yahoo.com  
  
A/N: The Scribe: The Lord of the Rings and all its accompanying parts, characters and mythologies are not mine. This fanfiction is intended as a work of respect for and tribute to J. R. R. Tolkien's creations.  
  
Shout out to LadyTremere and ola, my loyal two. I always appreciate your comments. Also, as I reread Chapter 7 of First Sight, I have to add a special nod of gratitude to LadyTremere. Your observations helped bring Alkalphiel into focus.  
  
*Text* indicates thought.  
  
Alkalphiel: Well, I spent this chapter of my version locked in internal musings. Legolas takes a . . . different tack.  
  
~*~  
  
I wanted to stay there all night, waiting outside her door for any hint that she'd chosen me, gathering my energy. Unfortunately, princes don't sit in hallways. They sit in royal quarters and throne rooms. After the fifth servant asked me if I was all right and should he call a healer, I stood, said no, and left.  
  
Peace of any kind evaded me that night. I paced the halls of the palace restlessly until my father, woken by my motion for the third time, stopped.  
  
"Legolas, perhaps you would be happier outside," he suggested somewhat tartly.  
  
"Atar, I'm so sorry. I'll go out immediately."  
  
His face softened a little. "No, it is I who am sorry, my son. You remind me of myself, the night your mother left for the Grey Havens. I could not be still without her by my side. I am not angry with you, Legolas. However, I am tired. Also, it occurs to me that the trees might do something to quiet your mind."  
  
I smiled. "Thank you. Yes, I'll go out."  
  
~*~  
  
The gardens and courtyards of the great palace of Mirkwood are never dark. Torches keep them lit always, especially in the summer when many Elves enjoy the cool evenings. Since I was not in a fit mood for company, I went instead to the deserted and darkened archery field. Long years of habit helped me find a practice bow and arrows - they were not my own, but they would do. I fitted an arrow to the string and turned until I believed I was facing the target; then I let the arrow fly. Listening, I expected the solid thunk of my arrow hitting, if not dead center, than at least close. There was no such sound.  
  
I'd managed not only to miss my target, but also to miss every other target! This was a story that my father would never hear, or I'd never live it down. There was nothing for it but to nock another arrow and try again, shooting blindly until I either hit the target or ran out of arrows.  
  
~*~  
  
Last arrow. I smiled ruefully to myself, noting how one area of my life seemed determined to imitate another. Just as I'd expended all my emotional resources on winning Alkalphiel, and with no clear indicator of success or failure, here I was in the night, using up all my arrows and again with no way to tell whether I'd hit the target. Each time I was sure that this shot had flown true, a wind had rustled the tree branches or a passing Elf had called out to a friend. I promised myself that after I fired off this arrow, I would check my possible successes. At least one of my attempts would be resolved this night, succeed or fail.  
  
The bow sang in my hands as the final arrow took flight. As always before, something arose to distract me. This time, however, it was not external but rather internal. A great weight suddenly lifted from me, easing a few of the worry lines from my brow. Puzzled, I turned east toward the palace, as if I would see the cause. Pink light peeked over the palace roof. And yet, if I closed my eyes, I could see that same light start at the horizon and extend upward.  
  
Alkalphiel's room faced east, I suddenly recalled. Seeing what the other saw was a part of the life bond. This cheered me; her rejection of me was no longer total. The corner of my mind that should have been in full communion with hers was still silent, however, so the battle was not yet won.  
  
I looked back to my target. Three arrows had landed there, one of them near the center and the other two in the next ring out. Dawn continued rising. I descended to the ground, heeding the inner urge to meditate.  
  
~*~  
  
Alkalphiel and I must have developed some sort of partial bond, I decided, as my calming vision of candle flames turned once more to a vision of Alkalphiel, working her way through a labyrinth. Although I was encouraged by the progress I saw in this vision, I was also frustrated. Wishing that my soul mate would choose to be with me, worrying that she would not - these were not conducive to serenity. I made my mind still again, now fearing that my frustration over my attempts to meditate would drive Alkalphiel away from me.  
  
Candle flames. Candles floating on the water. There, that was a sufficiently complicated image - certainly enough to maintain my attention. Without warning, the image dissolved into one of Alkalphiel walking into the punchbowl yesterday evening. I surrendered to the urge to chuckle. Life with Alkalphiel could never be boring.  
  
Realizing that any sort of serenity was beyond my grasp, I rose and began the walk back to the palace. I was unsure what, exactly, I intended to do there, but it felt right to return. Feeling a little guilty about leaving arrows strewn over the practice field, I considered returning and cleaning them up. The life bond tugged at my mind, suddenly wishing me near Alkalphiel. The prince in me tugged the other way.  
  
I compromised, hurrying back to the practice field and scooping up most, if not all, of the arrows. The tug came again. Was Alkalphiel close to her decision? Could she be leaning toward me? A quick scan revealed no more arrows on the ground. Royal upbringing fought with romantic hope, and royalty won. Never leave a mess if you can help it. I sprinted to the target, pulled out the arrows, and began my run for the palace, stopping only to drop the arrows in their quiver.  
  
Hope was rising in my heart with every step as I settled into a ground- eating lope. I could almost feel Alkalphiel getting closer to me, a sensation I took as a sure sign that she was accepting our bond. Finally, I received the signal I'd waited for.  
  
*I will try this.*  
  
Alkalphiel's mental words echoed in my mind. She'd finally accepted me, and unintentionally projected her thoughts down our bond. The bond itself was coming into focus now, and I occasionally gave myself double vision, trying to see things through Alkalphiel's eyes as I ran. Giving that up as too disorienting, I began to concentrate on reaching my beloved as quickly as was possible. I had so much to teach her, so much to share!  
  
Fear. Not crippling, but still strong. Alkalphiel's mind drew itself taut as my bowstring hours ago. She was readying for battle, weighing escapes and defenses.  
  
I ran faster.  
  
The strangest image of a small table echoed down the bond. A sense of desperation.  
  
My pace was an all out sprint now, exhausting but effective. I worried momentarily that I would be too tired to be of any use by the time I reached the palace. Fortunately, I crested the last rise in the path just as I finished the thought. Yelling for guardsmen as I pounded up to the front door, I threw my mind completely open to Alkalphiel. With any luck, strong emotion would make her project again as it had before.  
  
No air. Can't . . . no, mustn't breathe. Giving in to the need for oxygen. And then . . .  
  
Nothing. Nothing at all. The sudden lack of Alkalphiel was as overwhelming as her presence had become. I tripped on the threshold of the door, going to both knees on the marble floor of the entryway. She was gone. 


End file.
